


Surviving Alliances

by alijah



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 02:38:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5188979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alijah/pseuds/alijah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Renly's assassination, Catelyn runs south instead of north, and makes a pact with the Martell brothers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surviving Alliances

Doran Martell sat in his chair, watching the children in the pools play in the late morning sunshine, much as he had done every day for many years past. Only this day was different, he had received a letter from the late King Robert’s brother, claiming that he was the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms, that the boy King Joffrey, his brother Prince Tommen and sister Princess Myrcella were bastards, children born of treason between Queen Cersei and her infamous brother the Kingslayer _demanding_ that everyone who was a “True man” declare him their King help him take Kings Landing. Probably with the same end goal as Lord Tywin, _dead babes and a dead queen._ The lands north of the marches were descending into war. _Again._

He supposed that war of some sort was inevitable after the execution of Eddard Stark, the northerners as they proclaimed to everyone who would listen were not a forgetful people, and such a slight would not go unanswered. What wasn’t inevitable was what looked like the upcoming clash between King Roberts, _if the rumours are true_ heir apparent and his brother, who from what he had heard had married a Tyrell and was making a leisurely march toward Kings Landing, with many stops for tourneys and feasts lasting days. _I suppose he is attempting to recreate the largesse his brother was known for._ He doubted that Dorne would be allowed to sit this out completely but, if he chose is actions wisely and played on his reputation for cowardice Dorne’s armies would be able to remain more or less intact, _so that when the Targaryen girl brought fire and blood, he would show them what folly it was to think the spear was the more dangerous of House Martell’s sigil. For the spear could only kill one at a time, albeit with more blood, but as all Dornishmen know, the sun could both warm babes and destroy armies._

In order to survive though Dorne would need allies. People with similar goals to him, or at least people whose goals were not conflicting. He could ally with Renly, although that would likely cause more problems as both the Reach and the Stormlands were Dorne’s historical antagonists, likewise Stannis would not suit, he was both too Stormlander and too intransigent, especially when it came to social mores. He would also want to alter the agreement made by Jon Arryn which ensured that Dorne paid less than half the tax per capita of the rest of the Kingdoms. The only other option was the North, and they were both far away, had not yet announced their intentions and rumour had it that the late Lord of Winterfell had declared Stannis King. The best strategy would be to lay in wait. Let those who wished for Dorne’s spears come to him.

 

* * *

 

Catelyn grasped Brienne’s hand as they travelled quickly towards the docks of Storms End. Their small party had not stopped in the hours passed since Renly Baratheon’s death. It was dusk and the sun had begun to set on the horizon. They were about to reach the water when her guard, Aenar Beattie thrust his hand in front of her and halted her movement.

“My apologies, milady. Only, we are trying to get outta here without being noticed, and you and your companion” his eyes glanced quickly to Lady Brienne “are quite noticeable. Mayhaps I oughtta go arrange a vessel. One man is far less noteworthy aint he.” Aenar ventured with his distinctive northern cadence.

“Quite right, Lady Brienne and I shall wait here, hidden, with Ser Nicolas. Can you find out if there are any ships headed to Gulltown, or failing that Sunspear? As well if you can see if there are any ships headed to the island of Tarth I would be most grateful. Come find us when you have settled on a ship, and I will bring the coin for payment. Also if you hear any murmuring about Renly’s death I would much appreciate the information” Catelyn concluded her instruction. With a nod Aenar left.

As they sat silently watching the waves wash wistfully onto the shore, Catelyn realized her two companions would not know each other and so decided to acquaint them.

“Lady Brienne, this is Ser Nicolas Dunbar a knight sworn to the Manderly’s. Ser Nicolas this is Lady Brienne, the only women among King Renly’s, _Rainbow Guard_ ” She offered hoping that this would quell the silence that they had been in since Aenar’s departure.

_Boom_. The sound made them all jump and turn toward it, Catelyn letting out a shriek of panic. When the turned to see the cause of the sound they saw it was Aenar who had tripped over a log in the dim light. He looked slightly embarrassed as he stood up, although he did accept Ser Nicolas’s assistance.

“Milady” he spoke, scratching the back of his hair with his hand. “There were no ships headed further north than Kingslandin’, but I was able to book us passage on a merchant vessel headed to Dorne. I, ah, also” he seemed to lose his words, looking everywhere but at their faces “was able to do that second thing you asked for. To see if there was any rumours ‘bout Renly’s death…” he paused, then took a deep breath. “Well, from what I could tell, their claiming it was the Lady Brienne. The Tyrells seem to be out for her blood –”

“It wasn’t me; I would never have hurt Renly, twas a smoke demon with the face of that Kinslayer Stannis” Lady Brienne choked out. Catelyn placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Aye, we know you are truthful. I was there you needn’t convince me. This does mean that I am afraid you will have to come with us to Sunspear though. I doubt you will find safety anywhere here for a good while. The Tyrell’s invested much into your king” Catelyn comforted. Lady Brienne nodded morosely and it was a sombre group that made its way onto the _Green Witch_ as it departed for Sunspear.

 

* * *

 

The morning sun warmed Catelyn as she stood at the prow of the merchant vessel as it made its way into the harbour at Sunspear. The castle was both a beacon of hope and a reminder of what she had to do. The sandship impressive to behold was how they would orient themselves in the foreign city, what they would use to guide them to the old palace, their first destination as she had doubts a party of four, dirty and weary from travels would hardly be allowed near the revered Princes and Princesses of Dorne. They brought their small amount of goods of the ship and made their way through the mud walled streets of the shadow city to the three-fold gate.

 

 

* * *

 

When the shared their desire to speak to the Prince of Dorne they were ushered into an antechamber off the main hall and instructed to wait until they were called in. Much like she had seen both her father and husband do with the small folk of their respective kingdoms.

“Prince Oberyn will receive you now” a servant, who wore the spear pierced sun of House Martell, told them bringing back all the nerves that had faded during their wait. The Red Viper of Dorne was both exactly like Catelyn pictured and nothing at all like the rumours she had heard would have made her believe. He sat on a what she could only assume was the spear chair with a beautiful women by his side, wearing a band of gold around her head, and a belted dress with the sun-pierced spear of the ruling house. _The Heiress of Dorne, Arianne Martell_ , she guessed.

He sat forward as they approached; Catelyn in the middle flanked by Aenar and Brienne, Ser Nicolas bringing up the rear; focusing all his attention on her. His piercing stare mildly disconcerting but she gathered all her courage, _you are a Wolf of Winterfell and a Tully of Riverrun; remember your words. Family, Duty, Honour; Winter is Coming,_ she reminded herself.

“State your business” Prince Oberyn said, addressing them with all the regality of a king. She took a deep breath and willed her hands to stop shaking.

“I am Lady Catelyn of the House Stark; my companions are Lady Brienne, heir to the isle of Tarth, Aenar Beattie sworn sword of Winterfell and Ser Nicolas Dunbar of White Harbour. We have come to request the help of House Martell” she announced to the silence of the court. Both the Prince and Princess had been shocked to stillness and the only movement she could detect from either of them were the flaring of his nostrils. He shot up and took a step towards her, shocking the Princess out of her stupor.

“Uncle!” she snapped. They shared a look before his shoulders dropped and he turned spoke to them.

“You had better come with us, whatever this is, we will need to speak of it in private” his voice held steady as he gestured for them to follow him, whispering to his servants.

 

* * *

 

Oberyn stood by the horses waiting to take their party to the water gardens. He saw the Lady Catelyn standing with the men she had brought with her as they packed their meagre belongings onto the sand steeds he had lent them for the trip. Over to the left with their horses all packed up his eldest daughters; _the Sand Snakes; a nickname that never failed to lift his spirits. No man would dare treat his daughters with anything other than the respect due a queen;_ surrounded the Lady of Tarth, one of Renly Baratheon’s Rainbow guards he had heard. _Rare, for a women north of the marches to have such skill, rarer still for an heiress. He was impressed with her strength of will despite himself_ , as were his daughters, especially Obara who had not left her side since they had sparred each other in the training pits. It was impressive also her dedication to her charge, she could not be convinced to let the Lady Stark travel forward without her, refusing to stay in Sunspear alone with a tenacity that rivalled his own, _or Doran’s, who would probably be slightly horrified at the comparison, however accurate it was._

* * *

 

 

Doran sat in his chair in the water gardens, and stared at his brother.

“Could you repeat yourself” he asked eventually.

“Lady Catelyn Stark along with three guards came to Sunspear and asked for our help” Oberyn repeated with a grin on his face.

“Yes, that’s what I thought you said” Doran muttered. He took a breath and looked out to the water gardens where the children were playing in the pools.

“I thought it best to bring them to you with haste” Oberyn added after a few minutes of silence.

“Yes, thank you. Please invite the Lady to join me” Doran coughed, before returning his gaze to the balcony and the gardens beyond.

 

* * *

 

Doran moved to sit behind the desk in his solar. He was arranging the letter’s he received every moon from Lady Alyce, whose position of treasurer of Sunspear was the first he had filled after the death of his mother Princess Lorianne. There was a knock at his doors; he glanced to Areo Hotah and nodded, his sworn sword stepped backwards and opened the door. Four people walked in, two men and two women. One of whom had the red hair of the Tully’s, the other had hair the colour of straw and was as tall as Areo. The lady he assumed was Catelyn of the House stark curtseyed.

“Your Grace, thank-you for consenting to see us.” She began.

“My Lady, welcome to the Water Gardens. It is an honour and a surprise to be able to host you. We were not expecting any visitors from north of the marches during these … troubled times” Doran remarked. He noticed a slight flush on the face of Lady Catelyn and her companions shifted uneasily.

“It was a slight accident that brought us to your shores, my prince.”

“An accident” he interjected drily. _You risk traveling through enemy territory, by accident?_ Was the end of the thought he did not allow himself to voice.

“No doubt by now you have heard of the death of Renly Baratheon, self-proclaimed king of these seven kingdoms” she paused, seemingly waiting for his confirmation that he knew of the death she referenced. He nodded, which prompted her to continue. “Lady Brienne and I were witnesses to his death. A demon, made of shadows wearing the face of the Lord Stannis came upon us and choked the life out of him.”

Thud. He turned to see that Areo, normally unshakeable had paled slightly, his grip on his long-axe faltering which had caused the sound. Lady Catelyn looked at Areo for a moment before returning her gaze to him and taking up the story again.

“I took Brienne and we left with great haste, knowing that our story would not be believed and that it was quite likely that she would be blamed for his death, as we found out she was as we left the shores of Storm’s End. There were no ships headed north, other than to kings landing. In fact the only ship not headed to Essos or Kings Landing was the _Green Witch_ , a merchant vessel headed to Oldtown via Sunspear. So that is what we took and that is how we came to be on your shores.”

“That, my Lady is quite an unbelievable tale, not” he corrected himself when he saw that both the Lady Catelyn and her sworn sword the Lady Brienne intended to interrupt “that I disbelieve you. My time in Essos with, well my time in Essos showed me of the power of the Shadowbinders of Asshai, the men and women who worship R’hllor. We of course would be happy to provide you with our hospitality while you await a ship to take you to a northern port. I, only, forgive my bluntness but I do not quite understand why you made yourself known to my brother. Why you did not stay at an inn in Plankytown? What do you want?” He uttered the last question softly, not knowing how to phrase it in any kinder way.

Catelyn exclaimed “What do I want? I want my husband alive. I want my sons safe at home at not at war. I want my daughters out of Kings Landing. I want Gregor Clegane and his band of rapists out of the Riverland’s, preferably dead. I want a chance to mourn. I want to know that there is no chance my daughter will be married to a bastard born of,” she choked abruptly ending her sentence. Although Doran could guess what she was going to say _a bastard born of incest;_ and why she had stopped herself. “A bastard who killed her father. I want a lot of things, Prince Doran” she said softly.

_Gregor Clegane dead,_ something he and Dorne had wanted since new of his family demise had reached them. What had he prayed for two moons ago; _Allies, People with similar goals to him._ He seemed to have gotten his wish.

Oberyn walked into his brothers solar, having just come from the bedchamber he shared with Ellaria while in the Water Garden’s. A smile came unbidden to his face, thinking about the love of his life, _Ellaria._ She who had birthed him four daughters and mothered four more. There was a cough from in front of him and he saw his brother sitting with a raised eyebrow.

“Are you with us Oberyn? Would you like a moment to collect yourself” Doran grinned. It was only in the private rooms of the Water Gardens, only with him that Doran let his guard down enough to make japes. Oberyn was glad of his brother’s good humour, the years after Elia and Mellario had been difficult for them all. He would gladly let his brother spend all his time japing at his expense if it ensured his smile never wavered.

“So? What happened with the Lady” Oberyn questioned impatiently. His brother had spent nigh on two hours locked in his Solar with her when she arrived. His brother had not been present at the evening meal nor the morning one, and he had heard nothing till Doran’s squire roused him from his late morning tumble to summon him to his brother’s side.

“A lot happened with the Lady. She told her story and there is a possibility that we could come to an agreement.” Doran theorized. “She wants her daughters out of Kings Landing, and the Mountain out of the Riverland’s, I thought we might come to some agreement”

“And what sort of agreement did you have in mind?” Oberyn probed, his brother’s habit of coyness frustrating him.

“If we help her rescue her daughters, and remove the Mountain from the Riverland’s, she will, on behalf of her father and her son relinquish all claims of jurisdiction over him, and allow us to see that he receives true justice. As well she has agreed that they will not stand against any Targaryen restoration” Oberyn felt his eyes fly upwards as he leant forward. He could barely hear anything over his own heartbeat and the chant that was echoing in his head. _Justice; Vengeance; Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken._ A wave of calm washed over him as he thought _Elia will finally be able to deliver her killer to the stranger and rest in peace; Elia, Rhaenys and Baby Aegon will be at peace at last._

“Brother, you must send me, to extract justice for Elia. Send me to the Riverland’s and I will bring you his head” he finished almost spitting as energy tore through him.

“We must confirm the alliance first, Oberyn. Lady Catelyn has not yet agreed. Also this must remain a secret. Dorne must remain being viewed as loyal to the crown, brother. If word of this get’s out I will have to disavow whoever I send. They would be in effect banished from Dorne until such time as a Targaryen lands. It is risky.” He cautioned.

“Risky, but necessary” Oberyn replied. “I will go, I will bring my eldest daughters and we will open a path for fire and blood”

 

* * *

 

“Lady Catelyn, come in and have a seat. I have come to a decision. Oberyn and I have a proposition for you” Doran offered. The widow of Lord Stark, entered, sitting demurely on one of the plush chairs in his brother’s solar. Doran glanced at him before his gaze returned to Lady Catelyn.

“I would gladly hear any offer the princes of Dorne have for me” she assured.  Oberyn admired the strength of will he could see in this Lady of the North, he wondered for a moment if it was that which drew the Butcher King to raise his Warhammer in search of the Lady Lyanna.

“We would offer you our assistance in retrieving your daughters. Oberyn would accompany you to the Riverland’s to apprehend Gregor Clegane whose skull will then be returned to Dorne. In exchange we would want your assurance that the Targaryen Restoration would be supported” Doran offered.

Lady Catelyn took a moment, looking out of the doors of the solar to the pools. Her swords behind her all stood, presumably baking in their armour with their hands on the pommels of their swords.

“I can agree to Northern support of the Targaryen girl once she makes her way across the narrow sea, and that the Riverland’s will not oppose her. I make no such guarantee for the Vale. My sister has closed off all communications and seems intent on the Vale remaining neutral in this war though so I doubt she would oppose Daenerys Targaryen either. I would however want some assurances that a system would be put in place to prevent any more _Aerys’s or Rhaegar’s,_ or _Joffrey’s_ for that matter. I would welcome Prince Oberyn’s company on my return to the Riverland’s, only if he is with me who would you send for Sansa and Arya?” Catelyn declared, her focus on her daughters not wavering.

The brothers shared a glance, with Doran gesturing towards Oberyn to answer the question.

“I would send my daughter Obara Sand to Kingslanding. She is as fierce fighter as any man and she is your daughters to Lord Harroway’s Town. Your children would be safe in Obara’s care, your sworn sword can attest to that much” Oberyn stated, his palm’s in his lap, facing upwards in an attempt to engender the trust of the Lady sitting before him.

Doran resumed speaking then “My Lady, we offer you this in good faith, however, in order for my” he stopped, his eyes darting towards Oberyn then out, again to the pools which held the children of Dorne “In order for our plan’s to come to fruition, we must appear to still be faithful to the crown, to still be faithful to the Lannister’s or Baratheon’s or whatever they are calling themselves now”

“I understand. I will however want a gesture of good faith to show my people, my son and my father. You’re involvement will remain a secret if you so wish, I would however need some irreversible proof that you will keep your pact with me, to ensure that you do not forget your promises” there was a bitter tinge to the Lady’s voice as she spoke, although she kept her voice steady. Oberyn took a breath to speak, to demand why she would think Dorne was untrue, when it was her family, her husband and her father who had taken up swords against their rightful, albeit mad, King. Doran, however, maybe knowing what Oberyn would do, began speaking, preventing Oberyn from unleashing a tirade.

“That is understandable, my Lady. I also intended to implement a failsafe measure to prevent the power of the monarchy from being abused as it has been by both Joffrey Waters and Aerys Targaryen. It seems the old Rhoynar saying about power rings true,” _Power corrupts_ Oberyn thought to himself, _and Absolute Power corrupts Absolutely._ “Especially when ones parents come from the same bloodline” he was forestalled from saying any more when Lady Catelyn interrupted.

“Old Rhoynar saying about power?” Lady Catelyn asked with a slightly confused look on her face.

“Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. It is why the rulers of Dorne have always been Princes and Princesses rather than Kings and Queens; we rely on the support of our people to rule, more directly than other Lords Paramount and the Kings on the Iron Throne.” Doran explained a wry smile on his face. Oberyn was slightly concerned that he was sharing this information, knowing that most Westerosi would see this as a weakness of Dorne when in fact it was Dorne’s great strength. It was why the Martell’s remained in power even after the first Dornish War, what enabled the Princess Meria to defy Aegon the Conqueror with the support of all the men and women of Dorne, even when he had dragons.

“As I was saying though, I do understand that you will need a more tangible representation of this accord, so I would suggest that as my brother is already joining you in your travels; that you do so as husband and wife” Doran advised. Oberyn could feel his jaw drop, the shock of this coursing through him, _what about Ellaria? What about my girls?._ Oberyn understood the need for a united front between him and his brother perhaps better than anyone but he also recognized that Doran was using that, trusting that Oberyn would not contradict him in public, to ensure his plans went through. _Sometimes I feel as though I am a mummer’s viper, people see me and think I am the manipulative, scheming, poisonous viper of Dorne, but I am nothing compared to Doran._

Oberyn was somewhat comforted by the fact that his brother had managed to shock the Lady Catelyn as much, if not more than Doran had shocked him. Her manners faltering only for a second but it was enough that Oberyn could see how uncomfortable the idea made her. He wondered, _is it the thought of marrying the Red Viper of Dorne that is off-putting or is it the thought of marrying at all, so soon after the death of her previous husband._

“You would suggest I marry your brother?” Lady Catelyn asked Doran, her voice shaking slightly; though with anger or shock Oberyn could not tell you.

“I would. He is a Prince of Dorne and a worthy match of a Lady of Riverrun and the North” there was slight warning in his brother’s voice as he continued. It was enough that Lady Catelyn coloured slightly, “He requires no heirs, and has enough children, bastards though they may be. Marrying Oberyn would make you a Princess. You would live wherever you and Oberyn please, if you choose to live with my brother at all. My own wife resides in Norvos; no one would stop you from returning to Winterfell or Riverrun to live out your days in peace, wife to Oberyn in name only. You could take up with a paramour, or never lay with a man again. It would be your choice” Doran finished. There was silence as everyone thought about the offer that had been made. It was broken by Lady Catelyn.

“You have given me a lot to think on. May I have some time to consider my options, your grace?” She asked her manners impeccable. Lady Nym would be jealous.

“Of course, My Lady. Take as much time as you need” Doran’s tone was genial, intended Oberyn supposed to relax their guest.

“Might I have your leave to write to my son, I would not disclose my location of course. I do not wish him to worry” Lady Catelyn inquired.

“As long as you made sure not to in any way refer to Dorne, then there should not be a problem. I will instruct the Maester to allow you leave to borrow a raven” Doran assured her.

 

* * *

 

When she told her traveling party about her meeting with the Princes of Dorne, the reactions had been loud. Aenar had sworn that he would remain by her side as her sworn sword if she chose to marry the Prince. Ser Dunbar had promised to support whatever choice she made, although he had been angry that they would suggest such a thing so soon after the death of Lord Eddard. Lady Brienne had remained silent for some time, allowing the men to say their piece before offering her counsel. She spoke of Prince Oberyn’s daughters, of how they were allowed to pursue whatever interested them; their sister was currently masquerading as a man in order to study at the Citadel. Brienne voiced the opinion that he would make a good husband under the circumstances. He was kind and learned and had a family of his own already, he was not likely to push Catelyn to leave hers behind. It was that, as much as anything that made Catelyn’s mind up. She would marry this man, who had a paramour and eight bastards, who would likely father more. If she were honest she would marry Lord Walder Frey if she thought it could bring her daughter’s freedom.

 

* * *

 

_Dear Robb,_

_I am safe. Unfortunately Renly Baratheon died before I had the opportunity to make an alliance with him. He was killed by a wraith with the face of Stannis Baratheon through magic’s I do not know. I cannot tell you where I am sending this from only that I am among, if not friends, allies. I have made an agreement which will see your sister’s freed from kingslanding with haste. I begin my travel back to Riverrun in haste but it will probably be a moons turn before I set eyes upon my childhood home. Stay where you are, I will send word if anything changes._

_You’re Mother, Catelyn_

* * *

 

Catelyn entered the room the servant Prince Doran had assigned her, a girl from planky town named Pilar, had directed her to, the table over flowing with food, Dornish stews and salads, stuffed Dornish peppers and Dornish wines. At the head of the table in his wheelchair sat Prince Doran, by his side was Prince Oberyn.

“Come sit, help yourself to some food” Prince Doran gestured to the seat to his left, opposite Prince Oberyn. She smiled slightly before lowering herself into the seat. As soon as she sat down Prince Oberyn poured her a cup of red wine.

“This is a favourite vintage of mine, I hope you enjoy it” Prince Oberyn said, pouring her a cup before she could answer either way.

“Have you had time to think over our offer” Prince Doran asked. His brother looking at him sharply as he did so.

“I have. I have decided to accept your offer” Catelyn directed this to both men although she kept her eyes firmly on Prince Doran. She could feel her future husband staring at her but she refrained from meeting his eyes. “I want assurance though that you will put measures into place to prevent another Aerys. The North will support a Targaryen restoration and the Riverland’s and the Vale with at the very least not oppose one, on that condition” she finished, taking a sip of the wine her betrothed, and wasn’t that  a strange thought, _her betrothed,_ although this time it was a betrothal of her making not her fathers.

“We can ask that the tradition of marrying brother and sister be set aside, and that laws be put into place preventing the deaths of Lords Paramounts and their immediate family, with the exception of executions ordered by a trial of the faith. We also will suggest a law be put into place that guarantees all participants in trials by combat be human” Prince Doran offered. Catelyn nodding her agreement.

* * *

 

_Dearest Ellaria,_

_I adore you. You brighten my days with your very existence and I am loath to do anything that might hurt you, however my duty to my brother and Elia’s memory leave me with little choice. I must marry. My wife to be is the late Lord Eddard Stark’s widow. Let me first, before I explain myself, assuage any fears you may have. You and our daughters will always be my first and last thought. Your place in my heart and home will not be usurped. Not that I think my betrothed has any intentions of doing so. In all likelihood my marriage will be a twin to my brothers, only without the passionate beginnings. I love you. I love you. I love you. I am sorry. I will return to your side as soon as can._

_Yours eternally,_

_Oberyn_

* * *

 

Sansa’s hands were shaking as she wrapped the cotton under her breasts. There were bruises blooming on her skin from where the gauntlets of the Kingsguard had beaten her. She thought for sure they had killed her when she heard the crack, but still she endured. Sansa looked up when another set of hands took the wrap from hers. Her eyes met with Shae’s in the mirror but both remained silent while Shae tended her injury. The Lorathi handmaiden although untrained, as far as Sansa knew in the healing arts, nevertheless had more skill than Sansa herself did. She wondered what part of Shae’s mysterious past had caused her to learn such skills, although refrained from asking. The truth she suspected would be as pretty as her bruises.

Her night gown lay on her bed waiting to be slipped over her bandages. Shae was crooning a lullaby in bastard Valyrian. It reminded Sansa of how when she was little and sick her mother would sing to her, although her mother would probably be offended to be compared to a handmaiden from the free cities.

There were noises coming from outside Sansa’s window. She only barely had time to preserve her modesty before a Dornish _person,_ in the dull light Sansa could not determine whether she faced a man or a woman. Shae’s hand suddenly gripped down on Sansa’s arm, wrenching her backwards and away from the intruder. She held her oft-boasted of dagger in her left hand, her right still digging into Sansa’s arm. The intruder laughed, holding a spear; near as tall as Sansa, so tall it dwarfed its owner by a few inches.

“You think to fight me off with a dagger” there was admiration in the voice, cutting though the laughter had been. “I am armed with a spear” the intruder, a woman Sansa noted, banged her weapon on the floor to emphasize her point.

“I will fight you off with whatever weapons I can get my hands on” Shae’s Lorathi accent was strengthened, her anger coming off her in waves. She turned towards Sansa hissing “Run, sweetling, run” before turning to face off against the unknown intruder.

“Lady Sansa, wait. I know how this looks but I mean you no harm. Your Lady Mother sent me to rescue you from Kings Landing and take you to the Riverland’s where she awaits you. Come with me and I will take you from this awful city” the woman spoke with conviction but Sansa didn’t, couldn’t trust her. Perhaps if this rescue had come earlier but, no. It could be a test, a game Joffrey was playing. She would not fail.

“My family are traitors. I am loyal to King Joffrey.” Sansa spoke the words with the same tone that she had used the first hundred times she had to act out this farce. The woman winced before throwing her spear down. She knelt before Sansa and Shae palms raised.

“I swear by the Mother Rhoyne and the Seven that I mean you no harm. My name is Obara Sand. Please, Princess come with me. I see you have been ill-treated and I will not lie the journey to the Riverland’s will not be as pleasant as your journey from Winterfell but it will be safer than remaining here.” The Lady – Obara, spoke with conviction. One part of her speech nagged at Sansa though.

“You call me Princess, I am but a Lady, and given my father’s treason, lucky to have retained that title at all. Anyway, why should I believe a dornishwoman would want to help me, after Lyanna and especially now given the betrothal between Prince Trystane and Princess Myrcella” Sansa’s voice shook and her stomach filled with guilt the way it always did when she besmirched her family but she willed herself to be strong. Her father would want her to survive.

“Your brother is a King, so you are a Princess. Your grace we are in a hurry and so I haven’t time to explain it all. Your mother came to Dorne in secret to make a pact with mine uncle, the ruling Prince of Dorne to see you and your sister safely away from the Lannister’s. She has agreed to marry my father Prince Oberyn to cement the agreement. Now, quickly where are they keeping your sister. We need to move” Obara murmured. She seemed to have enough knowledge of Sansa’s life in Kings Landing to know that she would have guards who worked for the Queen Mother or King Joffrey.

“I have not agreed to leave with you yet, do you not think it is a little early to be demanding of me the location of my sister” Sansa’s reply was shaky, her confidence wavering. There was a desperate part inside of her screaming to take the risk and run as far and as fast away from the cesspit she was living in, but another part of her – the part that had been beaten and humiliated cowered in fear. The last time someone had tried to get her out of Kings Landing they had died and though she didn’t know or love this strange woman claiming to be one of the Red Vipers bastard daughters, she could not handle another death on her conscience. Shae’s grip which had until then remained tight on her arm loosened.

“Go. Sansa, go. I will lie and say that you were taken from your room by a masked bandit” Shae’s voice grew louder and gained a hysterical edge as she kept talking “this might be your only chance out of here. Take your jewellery, all of it and your furs.”

Sansa’s shock at Shae’s sudden change of heart left her speechless. She knew her friend had a point though, she would not get many chances to escape and whatever happened or wherever this dornishwoman took her would likely be better than Kings Landing. If it wasn’t better it could hardly be worse and she would have a better chance of running from one person than from a city filled with enemies.

“You are serious then, about taking me to my mother?” Sansa questioned, although she knew already the answer the stranger – Obara would give.

“Yes, but we need to hurry. Now where is your sister” her speech had increased in speed since she had first entered the suite of rooms Sansa had been assigned following the destruction of her father’s household. She took a deep breath before answering, her eyes following the movements of her handmaid as she gathered up Sansa’s jewellery and began putting in on her.

“I have no better idea than you as to the location of my sister. The Queen has had me lie and say that she had taken to her bed for shame of my father, but truth be told no one has seen her since my father’s arrest” her voice shook as she whispered. Her sister’s disappearance had weighed on her greatly and though she was in some respect’s grateful that Arya had not been forced as she had to speak against her family and suffer the consequences of Robb’s revenge she was worried that something worse had befallen her sister. A wave of pity washed across the face of Obara as she digested the news. If this woman was who she said she was, if she was a Sand Snake then her seven sisters would make her likely to empathise with Sansa’s plight. She shivered as her thickest fur was wrapped around her shoulders, although not from the cold.

There was silence, Sansa was not sure what to do, should she push past her apparent saviour and start the climb down, or wait. Shae and Obara seemed to be having some kind of wordless conversation that ended when Shae turned her so that they were face to face. Shae cupped Sansa’s face with her hands, tilting her head slightly downward so their eyes met.

“Be safe, sweetling. Take my dagger and keep it on you always. Sell your jewellery only when you must, for food and naught else. Do not tell anyone who you are, even if you think they should be safe. Not anyone, no matter who they have sworn to serve. The Lannister’s will put a price on your head that will tempt many.” Shae’s voice remained steady, the same tone she would use when talking to Sansa about how she liked her hair, or about the latest gossip from the servant’s quarters. It kept Sansa steady as she nodded, tear’s slipping down her cheeks. Leaving Shae to face the consequences of her disappearance was torturous but she would not disrespect her ability to make her own choices _. Shae was an adult_ , she repeated to herself. _Shae knows the consequences of her choice, she is an adult_. Grasping her hands with Shae’s she gave one last squeeze before turning to the Sand Snake.

“Well, do you have a plan?” The bitterness and anger in her tone made her feel slightly ashamed. It wasn’t this strangers fault after all for the situation she was in. If she had only kept her stupid mouth shut she could be in Winterfell right now with her family instead the vile cesspit they called a capital.

“I do. How adept are you at climbing?” Obara’s face exhibited no sign of any displeasure as to the way Sansa had spoken to her, only inquisitiveness.

“I am not as well versed in it as my brother Brandon is, or was.” It broke Sansa’s heart to think of the boy who had once dreamed of joining the vaunted Kingsguard. Although it could be seen as a blessing in disguise, that he was saved from discovering the rotten core of the order.

“Follow after me and put your hands and feet where I do” Obara instructed. Her tone was soft, yet she spared no thought for the pleasantries that Sansa had spent what seemed like her whole life studying.

As she climbed down the walls outside her window, discovering nooks and crannies in the stone work she had never seen before, Sansa wondered if Obara had simply had good luck to come across the path or if she had somehow carved the spaces on her way up. They travelled swiftly to the ground whereupon Obara expeditiously ushered Sansa toward the stables.

“Will horses not be noticeable” she questioned Obara softly, not wanting to draw attention to them or to spook her companion who was armed with a whip. After all, Shae might be competent enough with a dagger to provide some resistance but Sansa had no misconceptions about her own skills.

“Yes they would. They would also be predictable, so we are going to feed into that and steal two horses, walk them away from the stables then release them. The Lannister’s will discover the horses missing and look for people on horseback. We will attract less notice if we simply walk out of the city. Our lack of belongings will lead credence to the tale we shall spin to any guards that try to stop us. We are women going foraging for berries and nuts to full our stomachs.” There was a wry grin on Obara’s face as she finished speaking. She found humour in the act of an innocent commoner. Perhaps because her skills were so unlike that of the person she would portray.

They opened the stall of two mares, older horses with less well kept saddles. Sansa wondered at the owners of the beasts. Whether she should feel guilt for stealing their animals, if they were rich or poor. If they had watched her being beaten. There was so much misery in this city already that the thought of adding to it was horrifying but she must. _If I want to survive I must,_ Sansa thought to herself.

They walked in silence, the city at rustling around her. The darkness covering the parts of life most preferred unseen. Sewage collectors rubbing shoulders with street cleaners and those without homes. There were ladies wandering around with clothes designed to be eye catching, red silk ribbons tied around the waist of old dresses. Made, Sansa supposed for catching the attention of men or women with money or food to burn.  Though there was little of that here. A cat ran past her feet, spooked Sansa thought, by the horse.

“Here is good. This is where we shall leave the horses” Obara murmured, in an attempt to ensure secrecy, though Sansa admired the dedication she doubted any here cared what two more strangers in the night were doing. They walked for almost an hour, through windy streets, past butchers, the stench of which made Sansa want to gag. They walked until they reached what looked to be the Iron Gate.

“This will take us to maiden pool from where we can get a boat to Riverrun. They will look for us on the Kingsroad and hopefully by the time they think to check the Rosby road we will be safe” Obara explained as she stepped out of the gate.

_Safe_ , the word echoed around Sansa’s brain as she stood on one side. There were no guards on this gate, or at least no guards that she could see. If there were any two peasant women would hardly make an impact on them. Once she stepped through this gate she would be _safe,_ or nearly so. Once she stepped through the gate she would be on her way home.

Sansa blinked back tears and stepped forward, passing through as she heard the bells ring out from the Red Keep.

* * *

 

Catelyn stood in the Sept of Riverrun, her body thrumming with energy. Robb by her side and her Dornish betrothed at the alter to the Father. Her son had not reacted well when she had explained her betrothal; his reaction was nothing though compared to her father’s. Lord Hoster had not been upset at the thought of his daughter marrying again. In his mind the more alliances the better, no his problem was with her lack of a problem with Ellaria Sand. He wished for Oberyn to send her away, and to send Tyene and Nymeria with her. When Catelyn had intervened on Oberyn and Ellaria’s behalf, explaining that she had welcomed Ellaria and Oberyn’s daughters her father had looked at her as though she had betrayed him, betrayed some intrinsic part of their life.

In truth she was not as bothered by it as she had expected. It was not the same as Jon Snow; there was no inheritance to defend. If she even had children with him they would be beloved by their father she was sure and Catelyn would be able to ensure good matches for them regardless of whatever Oberyn’s bastards were doing.

None of this however had been as shocking to her family as the agreement she had made regarding the Targaryen’s. They were aghast that she had agreed the North would support a Targaryen restoration although Robb did come around a bit when she explained the conditions the Targaryen girl would have to follow and that all this would be irrelevant if Daenerys stayed in Essos which it looked like she was going to do. Still they agreed to honour her promises however distasteful they found them.

The music began, a dirge played on the organ, the same instrument that had begun her first marriage. Catelyn made eye contact with her betrothed, looking resplendent in Dornish finery, the oranges and reds making him as beautiful as a sunrise.

* * *

 

Sansa was dirty and tired and hungry. They had been walking along the riverbank since sunrise and her boots were full of mud. Obara strolled beside her, seemingly impervious to all the filth. Sansa had kept a brave face on, for even hungry and tired this was better than Kings Landing but all she wanted to do was throw her on the ground for a nap. She wouldn’t though, Sansa was grateful to her saviour and she could not bring herself to complain. Luckily the river was clean enough to drink from, something she took advantage of when she asked Obara to stop so that she could quench her thirst.

Sansa all but threw herself in the river, finding a partly submerged log to rest upon. The pains in her feet momentarily intensified before abating providing her glorious relief. The sun shone down upon her, warming her skin and her mood lifted. She turned her head when she heard the sound of laughter. Obara was almost bent at the waist laughing but there was a soft look in her eyes.

“What’s so funny?” Sansa asked, becoming self-conscious. She did not think she looked that silly.

“You, sweetling. The look on your face when you sat down made it seem as though you had reached the peak of pleasure.” Obara chortled. “If your feet are sore you should say something. I do not mind taking a break. You should not feel the need to be impervious to discomfort, I am aware of how different this sort of activity is to what you are used to” She smiled at Sansa. Sansa was filled with relief.

“I did not wish to complain or whinge. I am very grateful for what you have done for me.” Sansa replied. She was aware of how much stronger her companion was compared to her and she did not wish to behave like the spoiled little girl she used to be.

“You are welcome. It has not been much of a chore though if I am honest. You have been far less trying than it would be to travel with some people I know.” Obara murmured. “Anyway it shouldn’t be more than a few more hours until we reach Riverrun”.

“Then we must keep going” Sansa sprung up, throwing herself onto the riverbank and racing towards Obara.

“We have time; we do not need to rush. I didn’t tell you that to try to pressure you into leaving immediately” Obara explained. Sansa ignored her grabbing her hand to pull her up then striding off. _Lean into the pain,_ Sansa thought to herself. She kept that mantra up as she marched on, a laughing Obara following her.

The castle of Riverrun rose in the distance, getting bigger as they approached it. Sansa thought it beautiful although that was probably more to do with the fact that she knew her family resided within. As they approached the castle Sansa could see the effect of war, there were archers garrisoned all along the walls and sentries posted at the gates looked unfriendly, one reminding her of a particular Knight of the Kingsguard. Obara squeezed her hand as they came up to the closest gate.

“I am here to see the Lord of the Castle” she spoke clearly and with authority although Sansa saw how much it vexed the men that a women would dare to approach them so boldly, or to act the part of a knight. Obara’s spear still by her side, though a little worse for the wear of having been used as a walking stick and to hunt.

“Who are you to demand the attention of his lordship” the guard sneered, the effect being slightly ruined by his obvious fear of Obara.

“I am Obara Sand, daughter of Prince Oberyn Martell of Dorne. A man who was married at this very castle recently if I am correct. I bring with me my new sister the Lady Sansa Stark” A smile played around the corners of Obara’s mouth as she spoke although Sansa thought one must know her to be able to see that. When Obara called Sansa her sister she was happy for a moment before her heart felt filled with guilt. _I have a sister, she is lost and alone but I have her._ Sansa was distracted with thoughts of Arya so it was a shock when she heard the gates wheeze open. She could not quite believe this was all happening, terrified that she would wake up and find herself back in Kings Landing, a prisoner again.

The doors to the castle opened as Sansa and Obara crossed the walkway. All the eyes were on them as they crossed the threshold. The castle was beautiful on the inside, the Sandstone the same golden yellow as she imagined the deserts of Dorne would be. There were tapestries on the wall, of Knights with the Tully crest on their shield. Paintings of Ladies riding horses on fields of green and beautiful landscapes, a true southron castle.

“Sansa” echoed through the halls. Sansa turned her head to see her mother sprinting towards her, hair flying behind. She was followed by Robb and two men Sansa did not recognize. Sansa did not have any time to ponder on the identity of the strangers though as she was enveloped in her mother’s embrace. Sansa was thrilled to see and hold her mother, yet her anxiety was building. If Obara had not known about Arya’s disappearance then, unless Arya had made her way to Riverrun her Lady Mother would likewise be in the dark.

“Sansa, sweetling. I have missed you so much. I love you” Catelyn declared, squeezing her before stepping backwards. Sansa wiped her eyes, trying not to cry. It was a happy occasion and there was no need for tears. She turned to her brother.

“Robb” was all she said before opening up her arms. Her brother was warm and strong and older then she remembered. He had a beard and a tired look in his eyes that she recognized from the mirror. Sansa noticed her mother looking around her and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, scrunching up all her courage.

“Arya’s not here” Sansa murmured. She watched emotions flit across her mother’s face like stones skipped across a lake. There was terror and pain, guilt and anger, but mostly confusion.

“Where is she then?” there was slight hope in her mother’s voice. Sansa presumed it was hope that she was wrong in her assumptions, and it killed Sansa to have to crush that hope.

“I don’t know. I have not seen her since father was arrested. She disappeared that night. As far as I know, she has vanished into thin air. The only mercy the gods have given is that her location is as much as mystery to the Lannister’s as it is to us” She kept eye contact with her mother as much as it pained Sansa to do so. “I am so sorry. It’s my fault. I, it’s my fault she’s gone and father’s dead and I am so sorry” Sansa’s voice went higher and higher as she talked, sobs bursting forth from her body. It was the first time she had been safe enough to mourn her father and sister.

“No, sweetling. Darling, no” Catelyn’s voice shook. Sansa burrowed into her mother’s neck. All she could hear was crying, hers and her mothers.

“She is missing. Not dead. Arya is resourceful. She has always been the best archer out of all of us. Give her time” Robb said, he attempted a cheery tone although they all knew how little chance a girl alone in Westeros would have, even with Arya’s skillset.

“Sansa, come meet my new husband, Prince Oberyn. Oberyn, this is my daughter Sansa” Catelyn introduced them, waving her new husband forward. He bowed to Sansa before turning to her companion.

“Obara. It is good to see you” he embraced his daughter, holding her tightly before stepping backwards. “This is my new wife, Princess Catelyn” he smiled slightly. Catelyn turned to face Obara.

“Thank you, thank you so much for returning my daughter to me. I will never be able to repay you. If there is every anything I or the North can ever do for you just say the word and it will be done.” Catelyn decreed. She then turned to Robb pointedly.

“I, ah, yeah. Thank you, my Lady. If I or anyone in the North can ever do you any favour you need only send a raven” Robb added awkwardly. The looks on the faces of her family were torn. They looked as Sansa felt, both thrilled and miserable, being with family was wonderful but there was an obvious hole were Arya should have been. Their family was not whole and would not be until and unless Arya was found.

Sansa was impressed by how well her mother seemed to be taking to her new marriage to this oft spoken of Prince. The rumours about him painted a terrifying picture and it was somewhat of a relief to find that he was both slighter then she had heard and kinder, if his daughter was any indication. She wondered briefly if her mother or the Prince had given any thought to their future living arrangements.

“Your return is a relief, not only that we know you are safe, but now the Lannister’s have lost you and Arya their bargaining position has been decimated. With Ser Jaime prisoner and no one to trade, we have all but won the war” Robb explained. He seemed thrilled with the change in their fortunes but it brought Sansa down. _We may yet win this war, but what must we lose to do so?_ She asked herself

* * *

 

Doran sat alone in his solar, staring at the parchment in front of him. The task in front of him was necessary and yet doing it made him ache with misery. His sister had died and Oberyn was his only sibling remaining. The youngest of the three that had survived the birthing bed, it was his job to protect him and yet here he sat. He had to protect Dorne though, Dorne had to come before Oberyn however much it pained him and so he put pen to paper.

_I, Doran, Head of the House Nymeros Martell, and Ruling Prince of Dorne do hereby disown and excommunicate Prince Oberyn of the House Nymeros Martell._

That however would not be enough to fully protect Dorne should Oberyn’s wedding come to light and so he, against his better judgement replied to the letter sent by the Imp of Casterly Rock.

_From Prince Doran of the House Nymeros Martell, to the Hand of the King, Lord Tyrion of the House Lannister._

_I write to you to accept the proposal of a betrothal between by youngest son the Prince Trystane and the Princess Myrcella of the House Baratheon. We are glad to be able to join our families together at this time. I would like to invite the Princess Myrcella to come to Sunspear so that she might get to know her betrothed and the people of Dorne as my ward. She would be treated with all the hospitality a future Princess of Dorne deserves and we would of course, assure you of her safety._

_In the light of the Seven, may this message find you in good health and good faith._

_Doran Martell._

Doran hoped that the betrothal would secure the future of his family, though there was a spike of anxiety in his gut. _Will I be able to uphold my promise that Princess Myrcella will be safe in Dorne should my plans for the Targaryen Restoration come to fruition?_ Doran thought to himself.

* * *

 

Catelyn stood with her husband in the solar attached to their rooms in Riverrun. It had been a long time coming but they were finally packing up and returning to Winterfell. It broke her heart to leave when Arya was still missing but she had to face the facts. There was very little chance her baby girl survived. If they were lucky, and she prayed night and day that they were, it was a quick death, without rape or sexual violence. Her boy had nearly promised himself in marriage to a Frey but luckily her pact with Oberyn and Dorne provided them the leeway they needed. Also luckily Ser Jaime was still their prisoner and would be traveling north with them to Winterfell, hopefully ensuring the good behaviour of the Iron Throne. If the rumours about Cersei and Jaime were true the Queen would control her son for the sake of her lover if nothing else.

She was brushing her hair out, thankful again for her step-daughter Obara and considering what sort of gift to have made up for the warrior woman, when her maid rushed in.

“My Lady, come quickly. There is a man from the Nights Watch who insists on speaking to you” she rushed out, Eda’s Riverlander accent coming out strongly. She stood up, feeling confused. The men of the Night’s Watch had always been cordial to her of course, but she hadn’t had any sort of personal connection to any of them with the exception of Benjen, but he was a ranger and would not be so far south ever.

She walked down to the great hall, following her maid and was filled with apprehension.  Whatever they wanted from her could not be good, although. Catelyn was struck by a thought. _Perhaps they are hoping that my relationship with Eddard and my time in the North means that I will be more easily persuaded to give prisoners of the Riverland’s over to the Nights Watch._

Waiting in the great hall as she arrived was Yoren and an urchin boy. They were surrounded by her father’s Knights and her husband’s squire. Catelyn noticed Yoren placed a hand on the shoulder of the urchin to prevent it from running.

“Yoren, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit” Catelyn asked, noticing how uncomfortable he seemed to be.

“Ah, milady. I have something that belongs to you” he grunted, pushing the urchin forward. It was only looking more closely that she realized it was an urchin girl, whose hair had been hacked to pieces. The urchin raised her head and.

“Arya!” Catelyn screamed. She threw herself around her daughter’s body, squeezing with all her might. Her sobs intermingled with Arya’s as she felt her daughter’s tears soak the top of her dress.

“Mother, Mother” Arya cried. The reverberations of their sobs all Catelyn could hear, until she was jolted from her reverie by a scream, one that echoed her own.

“Arya!” Sansa screamed. She felt another body fling itself onto where she cradled Arya. The distinctive red hair told her all she needed to know.

“I am so sorry” Sansa cried, kissing Arya’s dirty, matted hair. There was a loud cough from behind her, and Catelyn lifted her head to meet her husband’s eyes. It was then that she realized what a spectacle they were making, but she refused to let either of her daughter’s go. She turned back toward her babies.

“What is going on here?” Her father exclaimed loudly. She hear her husband murmur something, his accent  distinctive enough to penetrate the haze she was in, but it was not loud enough to understand over the thrumming in her ears and her daughters.

 

* * *

 

Catelyn stood outside the door to the room her husband had claimed for himself after their wedding night. She screwed up her courage and knocked, this was a conversation they needed to have. Ever since the return of both her daughters she had spent all her time with them and Robb. Catelyn was not avoiding her husband; her time had simply been filled to the brim with her children. Still, there was some nervousness that Oberyn would be displeased she had not devoted any of her time to him, no matter what he said about unconventional marriages.

“Come in” Oberyn offered, his voice floating through the door. It creaked when she opened it and she walked slowly into the chambers. The fire was high though it was not dark outside yet, furs were piled beside the bed. It looked like her own chambers had when she first arrived in Winterfell. It hadn’t ever occurred to her to consider Riverrun in the summertime as cold, but to someone from Dorne it must be.

“Your grace –” Catelyn began, when she was interrupted.

“Catelyn, please, you are my wife, call me Oberyn” Oberyn cajoled before gesturing to a seat. Catelyn sat down before resuming her speech.

“Oberyn, then. I wanted to talk to you, to ask you about your plans. Myself and my children, along with the majority of the Northmen are travelling back to Winterfell with great haste. With the Kingslayer as our hostage, negotiations should be simpler. I wanted to enquire as to what your plans are? You would of course be most welcome in Winterfell, but if you stay with me, with us, I could not guarantee the secrecy of our marriage” Catelyn explained. She stood near the fire, bathing in its warmth.

“Ah, No. I had not planned on travelling to Winterfell with you. Obara and I have arranged to meet Ellaria and my daughters Nymeria and Tyene in Pentos. We are travelling from there to meet a certain Khaleesi” Oberyn drawled. It was good news; there would be no awkwardness in Winterfell. Catelyn had been nervous about bringing Oberyn to Eddard’s home, and this would help ensure that their marriage remained a secret. It worried her slightly, though, only because of how attached Sansa seemed to have become to his eldest daughter. Some of that must have showed on her face though.

“Catelyn, you seem unhappy with the plan?” Oberyn commented.

“I am not unhappy with the plan as it is; I am only concerned, for Sansa. She has grown rather attached to Obara and I worry that she will be upset to see Obara leave” Catelyn explained. Though in the past she would have been horrified to see her daughter befriend a bastard, especially one who eschewed the traditional paths for women, she was glad her daughter had some comfort in these dark days and would be sad to see her companion leave, especially given her daughters lack of interest in being assigned a sworn sword.

* * *

 

Sansa walked along the riverbank, relishing the freedom she had now. She had heard that the Martell’s would be leaving on the morrow, early in the morning, to ensure that the alliance remained a secret. Sansa had been more distraught then she had expected at the thought. She would miss Obara, desperately. They had a sort of bond forged in hardship they she could not put a name to.

“Sansa, wait. I need to talk to you” Obara’s distinctive voice called from behind her and she halted. _Think of the devil; and he shall appear indeed,_ she thought to herself.

“There you are I have been looking all over for you. I have news –” Obara declared, or began to when Sansa interrupted.

“I know. You are going away, east to meet a fable” Sansa’s tone was more bitter then she would like it to be, but she hated the thought of being left behind, as ridiculous as it was. It was not like she could keep Obara forever as a security blanket after all.

“Well, yes. I wanted to say goodbye though, properly.” Obara clarified. Scratching the back of her head. Sansa turned to her then.

“Oh, well, goodbye” She said shortly, turning and walking away, trying to stop the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks.

“Come Sansa, don’t be upset” Obara walked swiftly to catch up, ignoring Sansa’s attempts to walk away from her.

“We will see each other again” Obara added. Sansa’s head snapped towards Obara, as she wiped a tear away.

“What” Sansa breathed. Hope bubbling up into her chest.

“We will see each other again.” Obara repeated. “What did you think that I would swan off and forget you, Sansa dear” Obara wiped a tear away, her voice softening, or coming as close to soft as Sansa thought Obara’s brash tone was capable off.

“We are family now, and I will not forget the promises I made you” Obara swore, holding Sansa’s trembling hands in her own.

“You mean that?” Sansa probed her voice shaky.

“Of course, you have not lived until you have seen a sun rise and set in the Dornish desert after all, and you have to meet my sisters yes?. I will show you Dorne and you will show me the North, I promise” Obara vowed. Giggles threatened to escape Sansa as she nearly drowned in relief. She threw her arms around Obara.

“I will miss you” Sansa declared.

“And I, you, dear one” Obara replied.

* * *

 

Catelyn sat at a table in the Maesters turret. Her family seated around her with Robb at the head of the table, in the seat reserved for the ruling Stark Lord, Sansa, Arya and Bran had joined them. Rickon was running around with Shaggy and Osha. They had just received a letter from Tywin Lannister calling for a ceasefire in exchange for the Kingslayer. The exact details of the ceasefire would take moons to work out, given that it would all be done via raven. They could not trust the Capital with any representatives given their past breaches, and the fact that they knew Daenerys Targaryen was coming to Kings Landing, with Catelyn’s second husband by her side.

The relief in the room was palpable, the silence broken by Sansa who had covered her mouth and appeared to be choking down sobs.

“Sansa, dearest, what is wrong?” Catelyn asked frantically. Sansa removed her hand and peals of laughter escaped her mouth.

“I – I, I am sorry. This is not the time; I am just so relieved, and ecstatic. They called us traitors and now they will have to acknowledge our plight. We could get them to do anything” She said through her laughter, which began to turn to sobs as she quickly stood up and raced out of the room. Catelyn stood to follow but was stopped by her son’s hand on her arm.

“Let her be. She has been through more in Kings Landing then we will ever know.” Robb cautioned, as they all stared at the door. _They had won the war but the scars would last forever._

* * *

 

 “My Princess, I am very sorry to have to be the one to bring you these terrible tidings, but I am afraid that your brother, King Joffrey had died” Doran murmured. He was sitting at a table under the shade of a lemon tree, with Myrcella.

“What, how?” Myrcella exclaimed, jumping up out of her seat before, sitting down suddenly, tears beginning to form in her eyes.

“I am not entirely sure. He died during the wedding feast, they say that there was poison in the cup he shared with his, with Lady Margaery. You uncle, Tyrion has been arrested” Doran finished. He watched as she fell apart, sobs ripping out of her chest. It was a tragedy.

* * *

 

Sansa was watching her brother and Theon in the yard. They were both more skilled then she remembered, and it was fascinating to watch them with their swords. Robb had more bulk, and hit harder, but Theon was quick. She heard someone calling out her name and turned her head to see Arya running towards her as fast as she could. Arya skidded to a halt in front of Sansa, and she saw that they had gained a bulk of the attention that had been on Theon and Robb.

“Arya, what is it?” Sansa questioned, watching as her sister caught her breath.

“A letter, from the capital” Arya wheezed. “It was sent to Robb, but Maester Luwin read it and I was in the Maesters tower anyway looking for a book.” Arya’s grin suddenly became feral.

“He’s dead, Sansa. That monster is dead” Arya crowed. Sansa’s hands began to shake, _could she mean?_ Sansa asked herself. She gripped Arya’s shoulders.

“Who is dead, Arya?” Sansa asked, praying as she did so. _Please, please gods, please_ , she prayed.

“Joffrey, the bastard is dead, died at his own wedding” Arya sang, gleefully. Sansa promptly fainted.

* * *

 

Oberyn squeezed Ellaria’s hand as they walked across the market in the harbour of Pentos, they were about to board a ship that would take them to Qarth and the Mother of Dragons. His daughters were meeting them at the boat, the Embar Rīza, or the Sea Lizard in the common tongue. Obara had been melancholy since they had left the Riverland’s so her sisters were attempting to cheer her up by taking her out drinking.

Ellaria squeezed his hand in return, bringing a smile to his face. He raised their joined hands to kiss the back of her hand.

“I love you” he whispered as they walked onto the wharf. As they approached his daughter’s he heard them muttering ferociously to each other. He let go of Ellaria’s hand to hear Tyene mutter.

“Who will tell father?”

“Tell father what?” Oberyn asked, squeezing Tyene’s slim shoulder.

“Joffrey Baratheon died during his wedding feast. They have arrested his uncle the Imp, and asked Quentyn to serve as a judge for his trial” Obara answered, a grim look on her face.


End file.
